


Static

by Shadowbob



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Mentions of Suicide, Noiz's Bad Ending, Psychosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:15:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowbob/pseuds/Shadowbob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Something I wrote when I was more than a little drunk. Thought I'd give it a chance.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Static

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote when I was more than a little drunk. Thought I'd give it a chance.

My life is static. Everyone I've ever met is covered in it. It's messy. It gets in everything. I allowed it in my mind when I was too little to know better. I can hear it in every thought. The people who were supposed to love me no matter what, allowed it into my heart. I could feel it in every tick. It made me a monster. Everyone around me seemed to figure it out long before I did. To me, it was the air I breathe and the blood in my veins. To them, it was something that made me less human. A disease with no cure. 

I was just a kid. I knew nothing of the world when they locked me away from it. I was supposed to be playing outside, instead I was spending my time believing I was never meant to exist and wondering when the universe would correct the problem. I fought at first. Of course I did. Yelling and screaming that they had made a mistake. That I didn't deserve to be locked up and forgotten. Then I begged. Pleading and crying to be let out. That I was sorry and I didn't want to be alone. Then I stopped. I didn't need them and they clearly didn't need me.

My brother and I would talk to each other through the door. But our words were static and it just filled the room, threatening to take up all of my breathing space. It sank into the woodwork so that I could hear it in the night when everything else was silent. I stopped talking to him. I doubted he had ever been there. I convinced myself the squiggly fingers under my door were worms. Other little boys may play with worms, but not me.

The maid that "cared for me" would bring such terrible static into the room with her I couldn't stand it. I tried for so long to endure. Really I did. But one day I just really needed it to be silent. She never came back.

The static was always. Always is, always was, always will be. If I kept my room dark and silent, I could only hear the static within me. My static couldn't hurt me. I thought of escape. But I remember seeing the static outside before. I knew it waited for me there too. I tried to kill myself several times. I tried to drown myself in the bath tub, but my body would fight me. I even tried setting something heavy on my head, but nothing could keep me from gasping for air. I tried to overdose, but there weren't enough pills to swallow. I spent all night throwing up all of my effort. My most successful attempt was slipping a knife into my arm and drawing it up to my shoulder. It felt like I was unzipping myself. Static, static, static. I fell asleep on the floor and woke up in my bed with my arms wrapped up. 

It was then that I knew I could never die. I was going to live. Despite myself, in spite of everyone else. I was never supposed to exist, but I mattered too little for the universe to crush me. Escape was the only answer now. Escape from everything. Why not become the static and see where it takes me? I wasn't Wilhelm anymore. I was going to leave him in the bathtub. The toilet. The floor. All the places he had died. Where he was meant to be. I was noise. Noiz. Less a name and more a definition.

We fled.

At first, it was hard to forget that room. I lived in the past while Noiz carried us on. I felt separated from him. Watching him drag us through the day to day static. Talking to shadows with blurry faces. Watching all the color fade out with each passing day. I tried so hard to reconnect with Noiz that I forgot he wasn't anything. The day I remembered Noiz wasn't real, it felt like he died. I experienced loss and a hole opened up in me that I thought I would have to bear with forever.

Just when I was starting to forget what color was, it flickered into my life. I couldn't remember immediately what this particular color was called. I knew it looked beautiful in my static. I knew I needed it more than air. I followed it, sought it out. It was easy to spot in all the lack of color. I collided with it. Brilliant color. I decided then that everything I've ever done meant nothing if I couldn't figure out this color. This thing that wasn't static.

I carried my static now. Looking for this color. I found it. I only needed to make it mine. It made me feel warm and alive. Cured all that made me less than human. The color I never knew I left that room for. 

Aoba.

What a beautiful name for such a beautiful color. 

I tried. I was never meant to be color. Aoba. So beautiful. I knew I needed it. Forever. This was the correction. I was never meant to be color. I was meant to bring color to the static. The color Aoba. So beautiful. What happens when you mix Aoba with static? I was never meant to be color. But with Aoba I can create color within this static. Forever. So beautiful.


End file.
